Deja Vu of Heroes
by Brochelle
Summary: In his older years, Terrence Hood comes to terms with his age. He's no longer needed in the world. But is he ready to be passed off like this? After a walk in the local park, it turns out he is.


**Terrence Hood decided**, after a long day behind the desk filling in for a friend of his, that he was getting too old for this. Politics no longer held whatever interest he had reserved for it. Now that the war was over (decades past) and enough peace treaties had been forged to last eternity's final wheezing breath, the new world had no place for him. And he was ready to step back and accept this honorable discharge. He had no need and was not needed - the time had come for him to stop studying battle-plans and start studying what he had never thought he'd come to experience. Who would? After such a devastating war, a man was lucky enough to escape sane. And here he was - scarred and weather-worn, but alive and well nonetheless. So he decided to come at it sideways and take steps. The process' came instantly and without question.

His first step: a innocent walk through the park.

To be truthful, there was a minor step before that, a step that could not be bypassed for him to experience retirement.

And that was picking out civilian clothes and, overall, fitting in with the general public; an experience he had not gone through since high school.

The simple cotton shirt seemed too loose when he tried it, at first. For one who had worn fatigues and soldier's armor the shirt was close to nakedness. But he (you'll pardon the pun) soldiered on with such a shirt and a nice pair of slacks to match. It was a breezy day, so he zipped up a windbreaker and braved the weather with a comfortable grimace plastered to his face. Before leaving he had caught sight of himself in a mirror and almost laughed. He felt like he should have a beagle on a leash and a straw hat wedged on his head. He _looked_ like he was supposed to be reclining in a rocking chair on some porch recalling bygone battles. Terrence figured it wouldn't be long before he would be reduced to the common senior. A pretentious thought, he observed, but something that came bitter and unbidden to his thoughts. A unwonted truth.

He walked from his suburban home to the neighborhood park, where he had often seen young children play around with innocent gaiety. There were not many there that day, since it was chilly and brisk and quite early, and Terrence acknowledged a sort of vague disappointment at this. He took what he understood as a predetermined seat at the singular bench and assumed 'relaxation'. It was uncomfortable. He folded his hands in his lap and took stock of his surroundings (a habit he did not recognize as a soldier's).

The park was small and located in the outskirts of the City, nestled amongst the hundreds of cookie-cutter houses that made up the greater suburban area. Fresh green grass, which appeared healthy and iconic of spring all year round, grew in carefully-tended quadrants surrounding a set of bright plastic slides. Shining in the dawn light were monkey bars, and glistening with dew was the wooden lemonade stand which was the site of the daily 'sales' brought on by the resident youngsters. Concrete paths wove through the grass like snail trails and all of them led to the park's center: a modest fountain created out of red clay. Shaped into the form of a mother and her young son, the taller figure had a caring hand resting on her son's shoulder. The smaller figure had his nondescript hand raised skyward with a clay butterfly sitting placidly in his palm. The butterfly's wings, he noted, were inset with dozens of mirror shards, all of which caught the sun's light in a brilliant display of ingenuity. He remembered a woman coming to his door and asking for a small donation. Had his gift been contributed to this project? The thought made him smile.

The sun had breached the far mountains' peaks and was now shedding its pervasive light across the county. To his left, the City's skyscrapers stood tall and glittered like models in their sequined gowns, and even from here he caught the sound of cosmopolita awakening. Honking horns were only drums to the native songbirds' symphony, however, and he passed many moments appreciating it. Then there was another noise - the quaint ring of a bicycle's bell.

He opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - and searched for the bell's origin. And there it was: a small girl riding her bicycle, with a supporting male figure following on foot, with his hands in his pockets and a permanent smirk fixated on his lips. The girl rode through the gates of the park, turned about to make sure he was paying attention, then pedaled hard as she could. She flew past Terrence and he found himself smiling. As soon as the girl caught sight of the playground, however, she jumped off her bike and raced for the swings.

"She's a real sweetie, isn't she?"

Hood turned to the father and forced a smile over his surprised features. He nodded in agreement and looked back to the girl. She was laughing (or was it gleeful screaming? Hard to tell) as she swung back and forth. She yelled for her dad to pay attention, then promptly leaped from the swing and landed a few feet away, her knees absorbing the blow. She stood up straight, threw her arms in a ta-dah motion and screamed TA DAH! loud enough to scare the native birds into a fear-induced frenzy. Her father laughed dutifully and waved her away. She lost interest and ran to play Pretend with the lemonade stand.

"She's really something," he continued. He took a seat beside Terrence and leaned forward. He was handsome; sandy-blonde hair and a wide, boyish smile, and when he smiled his stormy eyes crinkled at the corners. He was wearing a button-up with the first two buttons undone; the wind caught the open shirt and it billowed gently. His jeans were faded, either with style or from age, Terrence couldn't tell. But he was young, and he had a child he loved, and that was more than Terrence could boast.

"How old is she?" Hood asked conversationally, though instantly regretting it. _Dammit_, he thought, _I sound like a stalker_. But the man's smile grew wider and he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. Terrence noted the gold band that glittered in the sunlight on his finger. A happy, married man. Once again: more than he could _ever_ boast.

"Ten. Her birthday was in February."

He hesitated and they watched the girl as she poured 'tea' for her 'friends' and chatted amiably with herself. The girl's pigtails bobbed in the light as she giggled at one of her friends' remarks. She saw Terrence watching her and grinned toothily at him. He found himself smiling back.

"So, what about you?"

Terrence looked at him, surprise once again overriding his careful expression. He leaned back and emitted a low, wondering sigh. "Just retired," he said, with a noncommittal shrug. The father scrutinized his face and accepted the reply with a dimmed smile. He sat back as well and they fell silent again. The girl's happy noises drifting on the wind and became background music for their individual thoughts. The sun climbed higher in the sky. and soon the girl came wandering back, only to tug on her father's sleeves until he followed her away and down the street. Terrence watched the waving tassels of her handlebars until she disappeared over the rise. Once again he was alone in the park.

He fell under a short nap and woke when the shade had shifted past his still form, and the sun was staring down on him mercilessly. He sat up slowly, feeling like he hadn't slept and was just opening his eyes from a prolonged blink, and looked around. He was not so alone anymore in the park. A small pack of mothers tailed their respective children all around the playground, talking loud enough to fake nonchalant, while the kids ignored their collective facades and played amongst themselves. None of them cast him a second look but he could not care less. He was just getting ready to leave when he spotted something quite curious.

There was a couple, sitting under a tree and shaded from the sun's rays. The girl was tall and wearing a sundress, as though impervious to the cold afternoon, and was staring at the man with a surprised smile on her face. She was laughing, though he could not hear it, at something he'd said. The man, on the other hand, was older by a few years and smiling gently at the expression on her face. He had short brown hair and dark, quietly intelligent eyes and his face was covered with scars that were plentiful enough to seem odd he didn't have them taken care of. He spoke quietly to the woman and rested a hand on her knee; she laughed out-loud and planted a kiss on his cheek. He smiled slightly and rose. He offered his hand and she took it; together they walked out of the shade and through the grass.

Terrence smiled at them, though he didn't know why. They were like the hundreds of other young couples out there - laughing, holding hands, going for walks in parks. 'Kids' that one day would grow old and - well. Just grow old. So there was slight jealously in his observation.

As they were just passing through the threshold, they stopped, and the man took the girl's hands in his and knelt down. Terrence leaned back in his seat and smiled. He knew what was coming next. He didn't have to listen, didn't have to be there to witness the sheer joy emanating from the woman. She clasped her hands beneath her chin and smiled; he stood up suddenly to meet her in a full embrace. Now he did hear it - blissful laughter. So cheerful and happy Terrence could have died and mistaken it for the sound of angels.

The woman slipped the engagement ring on her finger and they entwined fingers. There was a look of foreign happiness on the man's face; something that looked utterly alien and unexpected on his weather-worn features, but not something that wasn't welcome. They walked off, gone the way of the sweet child and her father, and Terrence watched them all the way.

Getting old was something Terrence had come to terms with. He knew it would happen - and look, it had - and he was all the better for it. He watched the happiness of the young couple and had a sort of point of view unique to the observer. He could not boast to know how their relationship would end. But as the sun climbed higher, and gradually dipped behind the western mountains, he came to a vague brand of serenity. His mother, he recalled, had in her elder years attempted to teach him how to accept old age. How to slide into it casually, and not be dragged into it kicking and screaming. At the time he could not have cared less. He had a budding career to deal with, and he could not be bother with what would happen one day. In that war there was no concrete truth that one would grow old. Those on the field had come to understand that they would die there - on the field - and not get old.

The couple had disappeared, and Terrence decided to pass down his world to that of the inheritors. This was not his world anymore, that had been made clear by the day's visitors, and he was happy to take retirement and run with it.

"Looking at those 'crazy kids'?" asked a mother, passing by, catching his gaze.

He smiled. "Yes," he replied, with only shrug.

"They've definitely got a future," continued the woman, stopping and folding her arms, sounding wistful. She was in her mid-thirties, and the child she had kept tethered with her hand took the opportunity to join the others at the lemonade stand. She seemed not to notice and appeared content with watching the bygone couple. "Just moved in a few months ago. Quiet, polite. I can't ask for better neighbors.

"I caught the man at the grocery store the other day. He's quite a tall fellow. Apparently, the girl suffers from amnesia." She shrugged. "As far as I can figure, anyhow. She acts like she's never done anything material before. Spends every morning touching the roses in the front yard, petting our dog over the fence. Doesn't talk that much, but she seems friendly enough." The woman leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "She's still learning to speak, I think."

Terrence raised his eyebrows and mentally saved the image of the two holding hands. "They looked like they were in love," he stated. "I've seen that look before."

"Really?" She straightened up and looked at him respectfully. She'd probably passed him off as a rambling old geezer and he'd proven himself slightly more world-conscious.

He nodded and rose from the park bench, ready to leave and return to his retirement cave. The woman noted this and said a polite goodbye to him, wrangled her child, and left for the other mothers. He set off past the park and down the street to his house, considering the couples all the while. The setting sun warmed him slightly and he felt at home in his civilian windbreaker. Some hidden bit of him relaxed finally. He felt... safe.

As he walked, he recalled the image of the man and woman and, suspicion growing, concentrated on their individual characteristics.

The woman was tall, as he had noticed, but slender and pretty in a vaguely Amazonic way. Eyes that were blue as robin's eggs and a pearly smile, she seemed to uphold some sort of pride that did not dim any instant. Her hair was short and cut oddly.

The man was even taller, but held that height without confidence and seemed to be hulking. He had never spoken the entire encounter, or at least nothing he could hear. He had the aura of...

Terrence Hood fancied his voice would have been quite low and raspy, and though he could not fathom why, the blue color of the sundress seemed...

Natural.

* * *

**A/N: I actually wrote this out for Kire, who's going through some hard times right now. Hoping to make someone smile by this short fic. And who can guess who that lovely young couple consists of, those 'crazy kids' settling down in war-free suburbia?**


End file.
